


Now They Whisper It

by Darkmagyk



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alive Luke Castellan, Alternate Universe, Dark Annabeth Chase, Dark Percy Jackson, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Good Luke Castellan, Luke comes back, M/M, Multi, OT3, Overthrowing the Gods, Post-Canon, Stealing, in that he is on Annabeth and Percy's side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23357224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkmagyk/pseuds/Darkmagyk
Summary: Luke steals Zeus master bolt again.Last time he did it out of hate. But this time, he does it out of love.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan & Hermes, Luke Castellan/Annabeth Chase, Luke Castellan/Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan/Percy Jackson
Comments: 24
Kudos: 443
Collections: Start the Tape Again





	Now They Whisper It

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on tumblr, and as a birthday present to myself. Happy birthday to me!
> 
> I am apparently the only one in the whole fandom who ships Luke/Annabeth/Percy. But ship it I do. 
> 
> Just incase this isn't clear, Luke came back to life via the power of its my fic and I said so. He's the same age he was when he died 22/23, and Percy and Annabeth are out of undergrad, and are also about 22/23. So everyone is more or less the same age. 
> 
> Title from Lorde's 'Yellow Flicker Beat', because Fall Out Boys 'Immortal' was too on the nose.

Annabeth has maps sprawled all over the little Cambridge apartment she shares with Percy and now with Luke. In-between her classes, she paces among them, hyper focus in full play, seeing all the lines and angles. Spinning outcomes and calculating risks.

She once thought Athena always had a plan, and that she was meant to follow her mother. But if Boston and its Rainbow Bridge, its Giants and its undead warriors have taught Annabeth Chase anything, it is that she is more than the power of her mother. 

Percy walks along Boston Harbor, muttering to himself about broken promises. He goes home and hunkers down, next to Annabeth, traces his long fingers along her maps and plans, and along the planes of her body. His approach has always been on the fly, meeting challenges as they come. So, he offers that now, the out of bounds, illogical effects of all Annabeth’s careful planning. After all, the gods aren’t logical. They will not behave as they aught. They will not do what is best for anyone, let along everyone. If they did, this wouldn’t be necessary. 

Everywhere he goes, the water ripples and swirls with barely controlled rage. It longs, he thinks, for a new master.

Luke expects being alive, being with them, having a home, being in New England, to be much harder than it is. Percy cooks, but Luke reminds them both to eat. He drags them into bed when it’s much too late. He kisses worried brows even as he leans over them and looks at what causes such worry.

Luke has been on this side of things before. Annabeth and Percy know each other from the inside out, but Luke knows this.

They debate it for months, after Luke is returned to them. Where to start? Where to end? The best plan of attack. So many options, so many variables. 

But in the end, it seems only right to return to the beginning.

They start at the top. 

Luke has stolen the master bolt before. And Zeus has learned nothing in the time since. It is still lying next to his throne unguarded and unprotected. As though he has nothing to fear. 

He sees other weapons too. Poseidon's trident and Athena’s spear. He wants them for his beloves. Wants to give them both power and protection. But he knows better. The plan is too delicate for that now. 

Hades’s chair is out, but his helm is not. Perhaps Hades has gotten smarter. Luke wouldn’t have been tempted by the helm though. They have a different plan for Hades too. 

As Luke leaves, he cannot help but look at the last throne on the right. The throne of his father. Resting beside it is Hermes’s Caduceus. He wants to judge the god’s carelessness. A thief should know better than to leave it lying around. And Percy has told the story of its theft not long ago. But there is a more pressing issue. The snakes are awake. He did not check that before he grabbed his quarry. But their heads track him now.

His window is closing, he has the master bolt in hand. His mind starts spinning stories, ways he can make sure that neither Annabeth nor Percy are implicated in this plot.

The snakes raise no alarm. So, Luke walks over to them. Time is running out, he knows. And he wasn’t supposed to take anything but the bolt.

Taking the staff would be very very dangerous. Though not as dangerous as leaving witnesses.

His fingers twitch as he reaches out to take the caduceus.

 _ _Can we get rats on the way to your house?__ Asks one, before Luke actually picks it up.

 _ _Oh yes__ , says the other, __rats would be lovely.__

“Do either of you think of anything else?” And Luke knows that voice, though he’s only ever heard it once and he wants to scream. So much effort and planning, all for nothing. All he does is turn around. Hermes is standing before him.

He’s mortal height and dressed in both jeans and a short chiton. The wings on his sandals and hat fluttered. He’s smiling, and his smile is the same as Luke’s. Luke once managed to suppress a Titan inhabiting his body, and now it takes all of Luke’s considerable will power not to punch him in the shiny, white teeth.

Hermes continues talking to the snakes. “You were also only supposed to promise not to tell on him, not offer to go with him.” Only then does he look at Luke, “You’d think I never fed them.”

“Do you?” Luke snaps, because apparently, he has a second death wish.

Hermes looks surprised, “Of course.” He doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Luke with familiar blue eyes. The master bolt was still in Luke’s hand, easy to spot, though Luke did not see Hermes’s eyes drift that way.

 _ _He’s waiting for a confession__ , Luke thought, __for me to throw myself at his mercy__. Luke knew what the gods’ mercy meant long ago. Hermes will get no such satisfaction from him.

He stops keeping track of the time though. His window is gone. His only hope is to convince Hermes and Zeus and whoever else that he acts alone. It should not be too hard. The Gods, petty and stupid and arrogant, will assume he is working for one of them, and the truth that he is not might, might, might keep Percy and Annabeth free.

“I wasn’t sure you were really back.” Hermes finally says. “It’s hard in Boston. Other gods are strong there. And it has so many of those undead warriors milling around that it can make things blurry. I’m sorry, I didn’t stop by before.”

That, at last, brought Luke up short. “What?”

Hermes shakes his head, and looks out, past Luke into the vastness of Olympus, “You know, after- Kronos and everything, your- “he pauses looking for a word, he doesn’t find “your Annabeth, she redesigned this whole place.”

Despite himself, Luke turns, he had noticed that Olympus looked different. And Annabeth had mentioned her work. But only now does he take in the glory of her work. It’s astounding, really. No one could look at it and not see a city of gods. He can’t help but wonder why she’s wasting her time getting a master’s degree in architecture if this was what she was doing as a teenager.

“You might think,” Hermes says, “After so few years and so much of a reminder, that we might remember the promises made to Percy Jackson.”

Luke knows about that too. The promise Percy extracted from the gods in Luke’s name. He’d sobbed when they’d first explained it. Percy Jackson had given up godhood to see Luke’s work fulfilled. Luke had kissed him, after that, had been unable to help himself. It had set them all on their current path.

As far as they had last heard, the gods are still claiming their children. Luke has considered a dozen trips to Camp, to see the empty Hermes Cabin.

“Are you not claiming your children anymore?”

“I am,” Hermes says without a hint of defensiveness, “Everyone still is. They know the law, but not, I guess, the spirit. They are already forgetting what the Demigods did for us. Two years in a row.” He finally looks down at the lightning bolt. “Apollo remembers of course. Apollo remembers everything now. The way he talks about his time as a mortal. He loves the demigods, all of them. But he remembers other things too. Like, I stole his cows, once.”

“When you were a baby,” Luke says, rolling his eyes, “I remember the story.”

“Yes, yes. And both of us always concentrate on that bit. Him on my duplicitous, scheming nature. Me on my cleverness and ingenuity.” Luke rolls his eyes again, “But we did make up, I suppose we’d all but forgotten that. The both of us made up. We swore to be the closest of brothers, really. And then, I suppose we forgot or were distracted or something. I don’t know. But when he came back, he kept asking me to lunch and coffee, he wanted to remember. Wanted to do right by our promise.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Luke finally asks.

“We gods are quick to forget important lessons and slow to change. It has not yet been the downfall of Olympus because of our children.” Luke had made that argument himself, once, when recruiting for the cause of a different god, “It bothers Apollo and his sister a great deal, how Zeus sees the demigods. Even Athena and Poseidon, who claim as their favorite children the greatest heroes of our age barely acknowledge them.”

Luke has seen that pain in sea green and storm grey eyes. He knows that.

Hermes shakes his head again, “Well, we don’t really have time for this. I suppose you have an exit plan?” He nods towards the lightning bolt, “I wouldn’t suggest just walking through the city and down the elevator.”

Luke doesn’t say anything for several long minutes, “I- “he finally tires, “I have a plan.” He has Annabeth’s cap in his backpack, and a path that shouldn’t attract attention.

“Good,” Hermes nods, “We should both be gone when Zeus discovers what is missing.”

“But, you can’t- “

“No, right,” Hermes says, “Of course, how could I forget.” He reaches into his messenger bag, another thing he shares with Luke right now. Though Luke’s says University of New Rome and is much shabbier from 4 years of Percy use. “I need to give you this.”

And out of his bags he pulls a pair of very familiar sneakers. “They aren’t the actual same ones,” His father says, as he hands them to Luke, who takes them despite himself, “those are lost in the Pit, and I am not as brave as your paramours, for such a journey. But they’ll work the same way. If you find you need them.” Then he walks around Luke and picks up his Caduceus. The snakes slither up the staff, “And if you find you need me. I am very easy to get into contact with.” He pauses again, then says, “I love you very much, Luke.” Before dissolving into the air.

Luke blinks at the empty space for several seconds too long, and then looks down at his hand, where the master bolt still sits.

The rest is instinct. A thief’s instinct not to get caught. Luke shoves the shoes and the bolt in his bag, and retrieves Annabeth’s hat, shoving it on his head and vanishing.

He finds the path back to the elevator easily enough, but it's busier now than it was earlier. His father delayed his exit.

He thinks about the shoes in his bag and looks toward the edge of the city. They are easy to put on, just his size, just as invisible as the rest of him.

Luke’s never really taken a leap of faith before he jumps off the side of Olympus and whispers “ _ _Maia__ ” as he falls to the ground.

The wings catch him, and he lands outside the Empire State Building still alive, and with cap and master bolt still secure.

He takes off to the train station, jumps a turnstile, and huddles in a corner for the four-hour trip back to Boston, completely unsure what’s happened. The apartment is empty, which he knew it would be. Everything was timed and planned. Annabeth and Percy have alibis, as do several other demigods they worry might get falsely accused.

The memory of Percy, twelve years old and with the weight of a war on his shoulders makes Luke sick with guilt. They’ve talked about it, of course, and Percy has kissed away each of Luke apologies with forgiveness.

It also isn’t the worst thing he’s done to either of them. He still has nightmares about forcing Annabeth to take the weight of the sky. And he hates that those nightmares have faded from her mind because they are replaced with the personification of the Pit.

He is unworthy of both their forgiveness and their love. But he craves it now, when he is alone.

There is a glowing bronze puzzle box sitting open on the couch, just where it was when Luke left it this morning, just where Annabeth put it three days ago.

It was made by Annabeth and Percy’s friend Leo, though Luke has no idea what they told him it was for. And it is meant to hold their prize.

Luke retrieves it from his bag and lays it down as gently as he can. Then he closes the box and waits.

He doesn’t yet want to leave the box alone, and even if he wanted to, there isn’t much out in Boston he wants to do by himself.

He heats up the stew Percy left for him in the fridge and watches the travel channel with a judgmental eye, and half expects all the Olympians to materialize in the living room at any second and vaporize him.

He sleeps with the box next to him in bed. It is too empty, otherwise.

The next day he finishes the stew and doesn’t feel like making himself a sandwich, so he orders from the falafel place Annabeth’s cousin swears by. He tips with a 20 he took from the wallet of some Wall Street guy who he’d seen groping a woman on the subway.

He is eating the rest of the hummus with some blue tortilla chips from the cabinet when the door opens. He knows who has a key, and the gods probably wouldn’t just open the door, but he reaches for the spear he knows is resting under the couch cushions. The box is still right next to him, on top of one of Annabeth’s maps he didn’t want to move. 

It is an overreaction of course, because the door swings open, and in comes his two-favorite people in the entire world. And they both look delighted to see him.

He stands and is able to meet Annabeth’s hug and her kiss. Her lip gloss tastes fruity and artificial and he can feel it transfer, but it doesn’t stop Percy from leaning in after her. They don’t pull back far after that. Just moving enough to wipe the maps and battle plans carelessly out of the way and to much more carefully set the box on the table next to the hummus. Then they crowded in close on either side of him. Their patented percabeth sandwich.

“We’ve missed you,” Percy says, though he’s leaning towards the hummus when he says it, so he might be talking to the dip. But his fingers are stained blue, which probably means he stressed baked blue confections for much of their trip to California.

“I missed you both, too,” Luke says honestly. Percy pulls back, but he leans into Luke’s side. Annabeth reaches out and takes his hand in both of her. He can feel the metal of her engagement ring, and it always upsets him. They aren’t married yet not because they are young, or Annabeth is still in school, or because Luke complicated things. He knows they aren’t married because they are afraid. Hera, queen of the gods and goddess of marriage had called Percy and Annabeth on a quest, a quest they’d descended into Tartarus for. And still they fear getting married, they fear what putting themselves in Hera’s domain might bring.

Luke laces their fingers together and then loops his other arm with Percy’s. He is in this moment, perfectly content to listen to Percy’s quiet chewing and Annabeth’s deep breathing.

“Was your trip alright?”

“Yes,” Annabeth said, “it was good to see everyone. Soon we’ll introduce you around.” She squeezed his hand. “Show you off. I’m looking forward to that.”

He’s pretty insular here. He’s met Leo because he was at MIT, and the son of Hephaestus still doesn’t know what to make of him. He’s met Annabeth’s cousin who is a viking of all things, because the Norse gods are also real. And Nico di Angelo, who Percy had called about Luke’s sudden status as not dead, knows he’s around and sometimes drops buy for blue cookies and to bitch about Percy being bi and a lot of useless pre-teen angst, even though he’s at school in California.

It isn’t exactly a tightly held secret. They told their friend Piper, Percy’s mortal family, and Grover. They go out around Cambridge and Boston plenty and he’s met a lot of Annabeth’s classmates and a few of Percy’s work colleagues.

But they are playing things close to the vest for now. There __Roman__ friends have an interesting relationship with Zeus or Jupiter or whatever. Which is nothing compared to the minefield that is Thalia.

They have plans for all of that, later.

This is the first step.

They don’t ask him about it, yet. It is a trust he is still working to earn, but that they have granted him anyway. They just munch on chips and hunt for the remote to turn up the TV.

“What is it you like about __Leverage__?” asks Percy, when Annabeth raises the volume “Is it the heists or the ménage à trois?”

“As in all things,” Luke responded, squeezing Annabeth’s hand again, and pulling Percy’s linked arm closer. “I like both.”

Annabeth bursts into a shower of giggles, and when Percy shushes her so he can watch the recap of how they pulled it off, she buries her face in Luke’s shoulder.

The most dangerous weapon in the universe sits two feet away from them. Stealing it is going to cause destruction and chaos. He stole it with just that purpose in mind. This moment is perfect none the less.

“I love you,” He says. Because it's true and he can’t help it. He’s never said it before. Not to them. Not to anyone.

“I love you, too.” They both say, slightly overlapping each other. Percy leans over for a kiss and Luke turns to meet him, so Annabeth’s kiss that follows lands just below his ear.

Then they both lean around him and kiss each other four inches in front of his face. It is more beautiful and perfect then anything he’s ever seen.

It almost distracts him, but the first I love you reminds him instead, of another first I love you he’s just heard. And a story that is vital, even if he doesn’t know what it means,

He hates to ruin the perfection, but he tells them what happened when he stole the bolt.

They stay plastered to his side as he tells the story and when it is over, Annabeth worries her lip. She’s done the same thing since she was a little girl, trying to make new information fit. Percy looks much less bothered.

“I spoke to your father,” Percy says, “Right after you-“ He doesn’t say died, “right after the war ended. It doesn’t excuse anything he did, but he was pretty broken up about it. He has been, every time I’ve seen him since.”

“So, you think-?” Annabeth doesn’t actually say what Percy thinks, but she probably doesn’t have to. They know each other so well. Luke loves watching them go at it, sparing, in bed, or just with battle plans, but sometimes he does feel like he’s missing something.

“I mean, I can’t be sure, but he could be sincere” Percy looks around the room, as though he, like Luke, expects a bunch of angry gods to materialize and banish them forever. “I think he is.” Percy has no faith in a godly parent’s affection, so it is a loaded statement coming from him. If he believes that of Hermes, Luke almost wants to as well. 

Annabeth’s eyes travel over her maps and schematics and battle plans. Luke loves that look in her eye, if she spends the rest of the night re-strategizing their takeover of Olympus, Luke could just watch and die happy in the morning.

“Because we are all still alive, and the bolt is still in here,” She finally says, “I think we can assume that Hermes hasn’t told anyone, yet.” She considers Luke and Percy together. She does that a lot, it very often ends very well. “We should not assume __why__ he hasn’t. But that’s enough of a respite. We have other things to do tonight.”

They put the puzzle box under the bed. And when he finally drifts to sleep that night, limbs tangled among the greatest heroes to ever exist, and the greatest love that surely anyone has ever known, Luke can only dream of the Olympus Annabeth build.

They’re all groggy but happy when they make their way back into the living room late the next morning, still in their pajamas. Demigod instincts register the new presents and they’ve all drawn weapons before they even realize who it is. 

“Haven’t had a welcome like that in a while.” Says Nico di Angelo. He has a blue cookie in hand, and didn’t draw his sword when they drew their weapons. He takes another bite, and waits until he’s swallowed to speak again, “Don’t know if you’ve been watching non-local weather but the sky is basically falling over New York City.” He says. “So, I want to know what you guys did, and how I can get in on that action.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on [tumblr](http://darkmagyk.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Also, it is my birthday, so you should maybe comment, just, as a present.


End file.
